Elevens

Hubby's birthday is January 11th. Randy's birthday is December 11th. Today - August 11th was supposed to mark another birthday in our family. But instead, it is just another summer day. Oddly enough, my next possible due date would be May 11th. More Elevens: If (as unlikely as it is) I was to have a baby next year, that child and Kianna would be eleven years apart. My birthday is in the eleventh month.

It seems that every other time that I've experienced a due date (from a terminated pregnancy) I've been pregnant again and had a new date to look forward to. Not so this time around. It's hard to let go. It's hard fighting away those feelings of failure. It's hard seeing babies and toddlers and not imagining what my child would look like at that age. It's hard to see a glowing pregnant woman and not feel like I've been cheated and ripped off. And I'm ashamed of my selfish attitude.

I know that my plan isn't always the same as God's plan, and that His plan is better than my plan. I know that. It's just that some days I want to pound my fists and stomp my feet and cry that it's not fair. And it's not. But it could be worse.

So, I'm done whining for today. It's now eleven minutes after two and I've got 11 million things that I should be doing.